he who fights monsters
by Kiseki-no-neko
Summary: It's fairly irritating, when is she going to see that the throne is not meant for her? What more will it take? Well, he can always break his self-imposed rule if it will mollify her for a time. -Oneshot- -Merlin/Morgan- -AU- -Dark!Merlin-


he who fights monsters

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><p>Disclaimer: If I owned it, do you really think it would have gotten canned?<p>

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><p>By: Bunny-chan<p>

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><p>Author's Notes<p>

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><p>Oh, <em>show<em>, I totally adored you for even attempting this pairing, even if you didn't give me straight up Merlin/Morgan sex. WHY DID YOU GET YOURSELF CANCELLED? -still totally bitter- ANYWAY, I loved this pairing, so very much, Joseph and Eva had SO much chemistry, it was ridiculous, they really should have done more with them, siiigh. So, I dunno, this is a bit AU, but does take place after the third episode, also has dark!Merlin and blood play, so...not your cup of tea, please step away from the fic now. Not beta-read, so any mistakes are my own, my apologies! Written for the Porn Battle, noticing a trend yet with my most recently posted fics, heh. Also, y'know, there should be more Merlin/Morgan fics, you guys, c'mon, they were canon! ...sort of. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this!

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><p>Merlin swirls the crimson mixture in the vial around, while Morgan stares at him, frowning. "I have no idea why you are so fascinated with it, it's just blood."<p>

He doesn't look at her, "Not just blood, Morgan, ours, you have no idea what it's capable of."

"No I don't, because you refuse to tell me, and considering you actually _asked_ for my help, I, at the very least, deserve to know why you needed my blood." She huffs.

He sets the vial down, carefully, and then finally turns to her, "Because it's power, that isn't good enough for you?"

And he _needs_ it, he needs it to help Arthur, to help himself, and if he has to use her to further along his plans, well, he's done so much worse in his life. "Not if I don't get anything out of it, no, it's not good enough."

He can't help but smirk a little, there's his Morgan coming out to play, "Then what can I offer you in exchange?"

"Other than what's rightfully mine, there isn't anything you can offer me, Merlin."

It's fairly irritating, when is she going to see that the throne is not meant for her? What more will it take? Well, he can always break his self-imposed rule if it will mollify her for a time. "Really, not even this?" He barely has to think about it, and the temperature in the room drops suddenly, their breaths visible in the air.

Her eyes widen and she starts forward, "You…"

"I told you, didn't I? You chose not to believe me." And she moves closer, drawn in by the small hint of his magic he's revealing to her, and that's good, it's exactly as he wants it.

"I thought you were lying!" And now she's close enough that he feels her breath on his face, "Why have all this power and not _use_ it?"

His face is grim, "I've already told you, do you think one is able to use magic without paying a price? You take, and you _give_, and some of us aren't willing to give what is wanted."

She frowns, lowers her eyes, and he knows he's hit a sore spot. She's already revealed to him the painful consequences of her shapeshifting magic, and he can't feel sorry for her, it's her own fault, they both know she's not meant to have that ability. "What do you want, Morgan?"

She looks back up at him, a coy smile playing along the corners of her mouth, "As of right now? You."

Just another rule he's breaking, fine, it's another thing he needs at any rate, the final step, she doesn't know, of course, and he's not planning on telling her. He makes the first move, places a hand on the back of her head, tangles his fingers in the thick strands of dark hair, and locks eyes with her, like before, except he's not trying to glean any truths out of her, "You're playing with fire, Morgan."

Her smile just widens, her icy breath still visible, "And here I thought it was ice, stop playing games, Merlin, and give me what I want."

So he does. He brings their mouths together so harshly, his teeth catches on her bottom lip, drawing blood, but instead of pulling back, she pushes closer, deeper. There's a brief thought that he could easily help Arthur, kill the sister he doesn't need, he can freeze her from the inside out, burn her, make the blood boil in her veins, he remembers how easy it was. But she calls to him too much, her _real_ magic singing out to his own, and he can't help but think maybe he's the one that's snared in her trap.

They tug at unnecessary clothing, her fingers more frantic than his own, and he'll never admit he wants this just as much as she does. He burns at the laces of her dress, because it's vastly easier than untying them, and she scowls at him, "I liked that dress."

"You can buy another one," he mutters, pushing her down onto her bed once she's free of the dress, he stands over her, towering, and she doesn't so much as flinch, as she tugs at his breeches.

He thinks that in another life, she would have made a grand Queen, and he almost, _almost_ feels sorry that he's taking so much from her. But the thought flies out of his head when she takes him into her mouth, and his hips jerk helplessly. He's close to spilling into her warm and willing mouth, but it's not part of the plan, so he pulls out, and divests her of her undergarments, grasping her by the hips and lifting her up, and she wraps her legs around his waist. He sinks into her as she rakes her nails down the back of his shoulder, payback for earlier, blood for blood.

He presses her into the nearest wall, rough enough to make her gasp, and it's like music to his ears, as he thrusts into her, his powers swirling within him, as the room heats up, and a wind that couldn't have come from any windows breezes over them, tangles into her hair. He hates her a little more when she clearly doesn't notice her own power trying to escape from her body to meet his, she's so blind to it, to the power she possesses, he wants to rip it out of her, tear her very soul into shreds. But he won't do that, because she still has a part to play, she will help shape her brother, whether she likes it or not.

"Merlin," she gasps out, keeps one hand gripped onto his shoulder, the other on the back of his neck, "harder, _more_."

He gives her what she wants, again and again, drives deep into her, leaves dark, finger shaped bruises into the pale skin of her hips, and it's enough to drive her over the edge, crying out his name, her head falling back onto the wall so hard, the sound is audible. It takes all his power not to laugh, for someone who uses sex as power, she's so easily swayed by it herself, at least when it comes to him. It takes her trying to push him away that finally makes him spill into her, and he bites down onto her shoulder, draws blood and drinks in it.

When he pulls back, her eyes are wide and so blue, and he laughs this time, kisses her harshly, so that she tastes her own blood, and it's almost complete. He decides to be nice enough to carry her to her bed instead of just dropping her to the floor. She curls up underneath the heavy blankets, running her fingers over his teeth marks, while she gazes at him, "You can stay, if you wish, but I expect you to be gone by morning."

He smirks, bows mockingly to her, "Forgive me, Morgan, but I think I'll take my leave now."

He dresses quickly, and grabs the vial, not giving her a backwards glance, "I'll tell your brother you sent him your regards."

It's only when her door is shut and he's out of sight from prying eyes that he opens the vial and downs the contents, the blood sliding down his throat, warm and copper and full of so much _power_. The bonds inside of him break, he lets the vial smash to the floor, glass and drops of crimson, and he knows his eyes are _glowing_ with it all, just like his soul. It's absolute perfection, and now he knows for certain his vision for Camelot will come to fruition. Nothing and _nobody_ can stand in his way.


End file.
